


Gwanwyn

by TheSpaceCoyote



Series: Hart of Thorn [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Deer Demon!Jack, Deer Demon!Tim, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Omega!Rhys, Probably ooc, mostly Cyrus focused oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 14:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Spring has finally come to the forest, and with it a strange visitor, who Cyrus quickly befriends.Rhys and Jack are due for a surprise.





	Gwanwyn

**Author's Note:**

> Happy first day of Spring! Though it was yesterday....
> 
> This is just fluff about Cyrus meeting this AU's version of Tim. Just a bit of backstory and fluff mostly. Might not make sense without reading the first part of this series, I dunno D:

Cyrus hadn’t had many friends back at their old home.

Most of the other kids in the village stayed away from him, and whenever he  _did_  find somebody willing to play with him, the moment they found out who his mama was they changed completely. They’d say horrible, mean things about his mama, things that made Cyrus feel horrible and sick deep in his tummy.

_Your mom slept with the devil! Your family is cursed! You’re a_ demon  _boy!_

He didn’t like remembering what they’d said, how much those words had hurt him. It  _still_  hurt, even though the bullies were far away. He’d probably never see them again, but thinking about them still made him feel sad.

But his mama had always been there when he’d run home crying, to give him hugs and make him a snack until he felt better.  

Cyrus didn’t miss the old village. Not even their old house and garden. He’d liked living there with just the two of them, but he remembered too many nights wrapped up in blankets, listening to his mama crying or talking to himself.

He didn’t like remembering that either.

Cyrus would much rather think about how pretty the forest they lived in now was. Especially now that the snow had melted and the flowers and trees were starting to grow back. His mama, who had kept him close throughout most of the wintertime, now let him out to explore the forest on his own and play without supervision. Cyrus still liked to take walks with his mama, especially to pick fruit or flowers, but he also had fun trundling through the woods alone. He had plenty of favorite spots—like the oak tree with the big branches low enough to the ground to climb, or the strawberry bushes frequented by little robins and mother rabbits—but now that the water had thawed, he particularly loved going down to wade about in the stream.

It trickled through the rocky waterbed a little ways away from Cyrus’ home, wending its way through overhanging trees and flowering bushes and shining like bright crystal in the sunlight.

When the snow had first thawed and his mama had allowed him to finally explore the woods alone, he’d gone there and, to his surprise, found a couple of nice people bathing in the stream. He’d hidden a bit at first, worried they were from the village, but then he’d witnessed one of the trees over-looking the stream curl and change into a pretty lady with purple hair that matched the tree’s flowers, giggling happily as she joined the group in the stream.

When Cyrus had accidentally stepped on a twig while looking through the bushes, he’d thought the people would either run away or try to catch him, but they’d merely called to him with soft smiles and gentle gestures, welcoming him as he shuffled down the shore to crouch by the water. Cyrus’ nerves had washed away completely as the group had gathered around him, cooing softly as they introduced themselves.

When he’d asked, one of them—slim and pale, with wispy pink hair—softly explained they were nymphs, not humans after all. Cyrus had never heard of nymphs before, as all he’d been taught about in church had been demons and angels, but he quickly learned he liked them quite a bit. And they liked him! They were very friendly, much nicer than the villagers, and none of them said mean things about him or his mama. Instead they’d weaved him flower crowns and picked him fruit and sat with him besides the sparkling stream, listening patiently as he told them all his favorite stories, even inventing some new ones.

Whenever he was allowed to go out on his own he visited them, though whenever his parents came looking for them they would change back into trees, leaving Cyrus adorned with fluttering leaves and flowers as his mama called him in for dinner. He didn’t understand why they didn’t want his mama to see them, but if they were shy he didn’t want to force them to meet.

It could be his little secret, for now.

* * *

One day, Cyrus packed up a small lunch in a piece of cloth, taking nuts and a couple of apple tarts from the makeshift larder his mama had set up in the main room of his dad’s lair. The tarts had been made from some of the apples given to him by the nymphs, so he was eager to share his family’s cooking with his new friends.

However, when he arrived at the stream, the nymphs were nowhere to be found. He didn’t even recognize the usual trees that changed back into when they were hiding or sleeping, which had him puzzling. Eventually, he decided to just sit by the stream and eat his lunch as he watched silvery fish flicker through the water and little crabs eat the moss off the rocks. He left one of the tarts alone, still holding out hope that his friends would show up and want to take a bite.

The birds chirped happily around him, on occasion fluttering down to the ground to carefully pick at the crumbs Cyrus left in the grass. He giggled at them, getting down on his belly to watch as they hopped along, pecking at the bits of crust and apple. Cyrus broke off a proper piece of his half-eaten tart, and was just about to hold it out to the boldest chickadee when a sudden, crunching footprint sent the birds fluttering away.

Cyrus pushed himself up into a sitting position, turning around towards the sound of the footprints only to see a man standing on the edge of the forest surrounding the stream, glancing down on Cyrus with a puzzled look on his face.

“Hello?” He spoke up after a moment of quiet, trying to be polite. He didn’t feel afraid, just curious about the man’s sudden appearance. Cyrus pushed himself up this feet to get a closer look, soon able to make out the antlers branching off from the man’s head.

“Hello…” He slowly shuffled down out from between the trees towards Cyrus, swirling leaves trailing off his back like a cape.

“Are you a nymph too, mister?”

“No, not exactly. But close enough.” The man leaned over him, smiling warmly. “And what are you?”

“Me? I’m Cyrus!” He held out his hand, remembering his manners. The man blinked at it for a moment, before chuckling, gently reaching out to shake it.

“A Cyrus, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them before.”

“I’m the first of my kind!” He exclaimed happily.

“Really? How  _neat_.” The man crouched besides him, getting level with Cyrus. His cloak of leaves rustled against the grass. “They call me ‘Tim.’ I’m the first of my kind, too.”

“Really? Cool!” Cyrus sniffed as Tim got closer, smelling roses and fresh grass and fruit.The rest of the forest had a similar scent, but it was a lot stronger coming off of the man’s chestnut fur.Cyrus saw Tim’s nostrils flare, and quickly remembered he still held the last wrapped tart tucked into his arm. He pulled the cloth away from the sticky pastry and held it out with both hands.

“Do you want to have some? I was gonna share it with my friends but they’re not here today. My mama made it!”

“Well, how can I let down such a kind offer from such a little gentleman?” Tim gingerly took the little tart from Cyrus’ hands, picking curiously at the flaky pastry. He sniffed at the caramelized apple, sticking out his tongue to lick the sticky fruit, before taking a bite big enough that Cyrus could see his long, sharp fangs.

“You’ve got teeth just like my dad does!” He noted, tapping his own lips, as the man finished off the treat.

Tim looked a lot like his dad, in fact. His fur and hair looked a lot cleaner than Jack’s, though, even when mama made him take a bath and spent the rest of the evening combing the tangles out of his hair. His features were softer than his dad’s, cheeks spotted with light freckles, and he didn’t wear any of those smelly bones around his jaw and neck. Similar antlers sprouted out from Tim’s hair, but as Cyrus watched little vines curled around them and popped into little pink flower-buds. He gasped, pointing.

“You’re magic like my dad is too!” He reached out his little hands, wanting to touch. Tim chuckled gently, lowering his head so Cyrus could grab at his antlers and get a closer look at the flowers.

“Sounds like your dad and I have a lot in common…”

“You do! You guys should hang out!” Cyrus happily brushed his fingers alone the smooth prongs of the man’s antlers, gasping when one of the flowers came away in his palm. It felt warm, like he’d gotten hold of a little baby bird.

“We should….perhaps you should show me where he lives? I’d like to meet him. Maybe get more of these apple tarts.” Tim licked the sticky crumbs from his fingers, before carefully rising to his feet, bending over to offer Cyrus his hand.

Without a moment’s hesitation Cyrus took it, and together they trundled back down the stream, along the path the boy now knew by heart back home.

“Are the birdies your friends?” Cyrus asked as he looked up at Tim, noticing the little bluebirds that had landed atop his antlers as they walked. They chirped a little song together, some of them even fluttering down to land on Tim’s shoulders, picking leftover crumbs from his fur.

“You could say that. They help me send messages. See things I might not be able to see from down here on the ground.”

“Oh! They’re like daddy’s ravens!” Cyrus nodded in understanding. As if to emphasize, the tree branch in front of their path suddenly shook with the weight as the familiar bull raven landed upon it. He cawed curiously, milky eye rolling to fix on the boy and his new companion.

“Look! There’s one now!” Cyrus giggled happily, waving to the bird. “Dad must want me to come home…well we’re headed there anyway!” He said, half to Tim and half to the raven, who continued to flutter along the tree branches until the pair arrived to the huge, hollowed-out tree that housed Jack’s lair.

“Mama, mama!” Cyrus called as he led Tim right up to the wooden door, rapping his knuckles happily upon it. He waited patiently, bobbing up and down on his feet, until the door finally unlatched and creaked open.

“Cyrus, you don’t have to knock so loud, I can hear you clearly and— _oh_.” Rhys stopped just as he pushed open the door, eyes wide as he stared at the spirit towering over his son. Tim’s lips curled in a friendly smile, waving.

“Mama this is Tim, he’s my new friend! I wanted to take him to meet dad cause…” Cyrus trailed off as Jack suddenly pushed himself up behind Rhys, arms wrapping around the omega’s hips as he rested his chin on his mate’s shoulder

“Come on, honeycake, don’t be so—“ Jack’s toothy, playful smile extinguished the moment he noticed the other man at his doorstop.

“Oh  _great_ , it’s  _you_ ,” he growled, furred ears bristling, “thought I might have a few more days before you showed up.”

“You guys  _already_  know each other?” Cyrus exclaimed up, looking from his dad, to Tim, then back again.  Jack grunted, angrily sticking out his lower lip as Tim chuckled, hiding his mouth coyly behind his claw.

“Yeah, um…I think  _I_  need an explanation too…” Rhys tilted his head to glare at Jack, who huffed in annoyance.

“I was  _going_  to explain to you both eventually, but well…I just…”

“Perhaps we should go inside, first?” Tim spoke up, in mediation. He patted Cyrus on the shoulder. “Besides, this one promised me more of those delicious apple tarts.”

“I…s-sure, by all means, Mr….?” Rhys started, nudging the grumbling Jack back and letting Tim duck under the doorframe into the lair.

“Timothy. You must be Cyrus’ parent?”

“Yeah, um. My name is Rhys…” He carefully took of of Tim’s proffered claws, shaking it. “Are you…what’s your relation to Jack?”

“Oh, it’s a little complicated…isn’t it, Jack?” Tim snickered, winking at the other spirit still huffing and growling over the omega’s shoulder. Rhys followed his glance, looking at his beastly mate and waiting for an explanation. Jack hissed between his teeth, one hand on his hip as the other raked through his messy hair, annoyed with all the eyes suddenly on him, waiting.

“I….I  _guess_ …if you had to put a name on it…” he mumbled reluctantly. “You could call him my  _brother_.”


End file.
